


Home Alone

by Fadefox



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Mostly Humour, Pre-Slash if you squint I guess, but you'd have to do so pretty hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-09 02:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fadefox/pseuds/Fadefox
Summary: Hawke is busy, Anders is poor and Fenris needs a hand.





	Home Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This is about three years old. Figured I might as well post it. (Even more _antique_ writings coming up soon!)  
>  One of my first attempts at fic writing - and one that taught me that writing any sort of action scenes is Not For Me.

" _You_ have a job?”

Anders stared at his visitor over the top of a crate overflowing with empty potion bottles. With practiced ease he tipped it left and right to keep those rolling around at the peak of the pile in balance.

"I do take on assignments occasionally. Just because I accompany Hawke on his outings does not mean that is all I ever do."

"Of course not, you also have an impressive wine cellar to empty. How's that coming along by the way?"

The look Fenris gave him from the other end of the room was flat. He didn't dignify the remark with any verbal response. Anders sighed and finally set down his accident waiting to happen before leaning against an empty cot.

"And you want _me_ to come along? Are you entirely sure about that? You do remember I'm a scary abomination working day and night on a secret plot to turn the Free Marches into another Imperium, right?"

"From what I was told I may need another pair of hands to deal with the beast."

Fenris quirked up one eyebrow.

"...besides, it would keep you from fleshing out your devious plans for a while."

At that, Anders felt the corner of his mouth twitch.

Of course he wasn't foolish enough to think Fenris was here because Anders was his first choice of companion; an experienced and powerful battle mage with impressive skills both in the healing as well as offensive department, a strategic genius with lightning-fast reflexes. No, in fact he was rather certain he wouldn't be having this conversation if Hawke hadn't just set off on a trip to visit Merrill's clan the day before, the two of them dragging Isabela and Varric along as well. Aside from Aveline, who was quite obviously too busy to even pull the stick out of her own ass, he was the only one of Fenris' acquaintances available.

It was an odd situation, he couldn't remember the elf ever asking him for anything ( _demanding_ things was another matter).

He cocked his head to the side and observed the other, who was idly toying with the ragged ends of an old bandage that held together a shelf.

"What's in it for me?"

"Coin. From the looks of this place you are in dire need of it."

Outrageous. But sadly not wrong. Anders grimaced at the mess of a crate on the floor. It was one of the last of its kind and the few he had left that could be considered whole in the widest sense had been subject to multiple repairs already. It wasn't the reliable equipment he wished for but he had to make do with what was available.

"Fine. I'll help you fry that wild mabari or whatever it is you're hunting but we split pay fifty-fifty."

The elf nodded, finally leaving the fragile storage construction alone and turning to leave.

"That would seem fair. I will pick you up tomorrow morning then."

"Fenris?"

"Yes?"

"This isn't some kind of plot to quietly dispose of me while Hawke isn't around to stop it, is it?"

"See you tomorrow, mage."

 

*

 

Anders had no idea where the blighted elf was leading him. It wasn't the Deep Roads but that was really the only positive thing about it. It was damp, half-dark and there was rock all around them. Anders was _not_ fond of large quantities of rock surrounding him, especially not hovering above his head. The smaller bits that were occasionally breaking off and dropping around them weren't exactly helping. He jumped as another fragment hit the floor only a few feet away.

"How much further?"

"A little less than when you asked me the last time."

Anders ground his teeth. Why had he agreed to this again? He'd spent the last three hours staring at the back of the taciturn elf, climbing through rubble and tunnels and caves, trying – most of the time in vain – to keep up with him despite his fast pace and ridiculously stable foothold, and was starting to doubt they would ever reach any destination whatsoever. Maybe Fenris really was leading him out of the city to leave him behind in the wilderness as a feast for the local fauna? Oh, but if that were to happen he would definitely ensure to survive just so he could complain to Hawke and watch him give the elf a good scolding.

Just as he was about to mention the consequences to any such despicable behaviour (if only to fill the silence that put an additional strain on his already tense mind) they came to a halt.

Or rather _Fenris_ came to a halt while Anders, still dwelling on fantasies of revenge, kept walking, right into him.

" **OW**!"

The elf spun around and clasped a gauntleted hand over the mage's mouth, motioning for him to keep quiet with the other before releasing him.

"You and your stupid pincushion armour," Anders hissed as quietly as he could bring himself to, "Were you hoping to poke out my eye with those spikes? Because you almost did it, just aim a little more to the left next time!"

" _You_ ran into _me_!" Fenris snarled back, then peeked over his shoulder towards the next bend of the tunnel.

"We are close. It would be unwise to announce our presence before we had a chance to evaluate the state of affairs out there."

Anders relaxed a little, nodded and tried to shake off his anger at the elf. This wasn't the time for a fight. And at least they were getting out of this rocky death trap soon, that was definitely good news. 'Out' had always been a word he considered to have a very positive connotation.

 

*

 

He revised his assessment of the current situation a short while later, crouching behind a large rock with Fenris next to him, tense and combat-ready. How the elf could look so cool and determined at a time like this he didn't know. Personally he felt it was more appropriate to break out in cold sweat, really, which was incidentally exactly what he was doing as he stared wide-eyed at the other in disbelief.

"That's a dragon."

Fenris, the bastard, kept a completely straight face.

"A small one."

"A dragon."

"I heard you the first time, mage."

The beast was a black, scaly mountain of muscle adorned with razor-sharp claws and teeth and spikes – was that a theme today? Spikes? Because if that was today's theme then Anders was heading straight back home, going to bed and hiding under the covers until today was over – and it was currently resting almost peacefully with its head propped up on what appeared to be the remnants of a cart. The vehicle was surrounded by the chests and barrels it must have at some point been carrying, part of them intact, part of them broken with their contents spilling out. Anders looked around the barren canyon the dragon had taken up residence in, mostly searching for an easy escape route. What he did spot instead were the half-eaten bodies of... horses? He was pretty sure it had been horses, the ones that had dragged the cart up to this point. So, definitely not a herbivore then.

"You do not honestly want us to fight that _monster_?! This is a plot to get me killed after all, I knew it!"

"If it was it would not be a very good one since you dying here might get _me_ killed too."

At least the elf's annoyance was finally starting to show. Not being the only one in distress was ever so comforting.

"I'm not even sure anymore you wouldn't be willing to make that sacrifice for a better world without me."

"Stop being so dramatic!"

"Dramatic? You actually had the nerve to drag me – and _just_ me, let me emphasise that once more – all the way out here to fight a _dragon_! I have every right to be dramatic!"

"It is a small one."

"That thing is bigger than the ceilings in Darktown are high!"

"It is smaller than my mansion."

Anders gaped at him, at a rare loss for words. He settled for a classic.

"...I really hate you."

Apparently Fenris wasn't particularly interested in settling their differences in opinion right now, glancing over their cover at the beast.

"I suggest you remain here for the moment while I sneak up on it from behind. Once I have engaged it in battle you should be able to support me from a distance without taking too much damage."

"I wish you had been this concerned about my safety when you thought of asking me to come here."

Fenris' head whipped around, brows knit together tightly as he leaned in close.

"You know full well I had little choice but to ask you. You can either stay and help me fight it or you can go back the way we came."

That insufferable bastard. Leaving had never sounded so tempting and Anders' eyes already wandered back into the corridor they had come through but -

"Fenris, that's a dragon! You would actually take on this thing alone?! You're even madder than I thought!"

The mage himself wasn't sure if he was impressed, amused or concerned. Either way Fenris raising his voice slightly let him know his response was not appreciated.

"I did not ask your opinion on this, mage! I gave my word to take care of this matter and I will!"

Well, that was just plain stupid.

"Get ripped to shreds is what you will!"

"Do you have so little faith in my abilities?"

"I have a lot of faith in that dragon's _teeth_ and _claws_!"

"Then I suggest you make a run for it like you always do so you will not get in my way!"

"I should! I'd rather have a madman like you call me a coward than die!"

"A coward is what you are!"

A thundering roar that resonated in his very bones erased all possible retorts Anders might have been considering. Next to him, Fenris swore under his breath and an instant later a giant blast hit the wall of stone behind them, shattering the surface to pieces. Anders dove out from under the resulting avalanche of rock purely on instinct, headed away from the wall and into the plain. As the crashing and crumbling ebbed off he took a deep breath and stared at the site of impact. Where the mouth of the tunnel had been. Once. Where the way back was now buried beyond a mountain of debris.

Not good. Not good at all.

And all because the blighted elf couldn't keep his voice down! ...alright, so maybe he could have been a little more quiet himself but- ...speaking of Fenris, where had he disappeared to anyway?

Anders whirled around to look for him. And found himself facing impressive scaled black jaws, drool leaking out between pointy, bared teeth on one side. He froze.

This was it. He had lived an exciting if not particularly commendable life for a circle mage and it ended right here, with his last impression of the world being hot and _pungent_ dragon breath with a faint note of horse intestines. It wasn't the end he had imagined for himself but he supposed there were worse ways to go. If nothing else this would at least be quick and for a moment he could revel in the satisfaction that the Templars would never have him. He closed his eyes, taking a deep but shaky breath. Yes, he would go with his dignity intact.

Or maybe he'd be bowled over as a scaly nose collided with his shoulder, sending him face-first into the dirt. Spitting out sand and gravel he scrambled to his knees as he heard a slashing noise and a pained hurl, only to be knocked down once again by a dragon tail to the spine.

The beast gave another deafening yowl as it whirled around and stomped off after a far smaller but equally dark and spiky form while Anders finally picked himself off the ground for good.

So the elf was alive. And he was, too! For now. So far, so good, Anders thought. He was simply going to ignore the fact that he was trembling like a leaf – he actually had a bit of practice with that – and try to help. Maybe at least one of them was going to make it out of this alive.

Ideally him.

 

*

 

"This... is not working."

Anders gave a distressed snort, wiping sweat off his brow. Yes, that much was obvious.

Their opponent was indisposed for the moment, howling and wiggling inside a crushing prison that had turned out to be able to hold it, if not for long, but barely did any harm. It gave them just enough time for Fenris to catch his breath and Anders to heal the worst of his wounds. The elf was alternating between harsh panting and gritting his teeth, markings flickering as he leaned heavily onto his sword. Anders had taken the one or other hit himself but while he was starting to feel light-headed from wringing every last bit of magic out of himself Fenris was off far worse, having dealt with the beast up close for quite a while now. It didn't take his experience as a healer to see he wouldn't hold out much longer.

The dragon however was mostly unaffected, Fenris' sword sliding off its smooth scales if he didn't swing it at them in a certain, perfect angle from below, Anders' fireballs and lightning not being able to pierce through the thick layer of horn either. It didn't help that for such a colossal creature it was surprisingly fast, deflecting sword and fireballs with agile twists of its body or lazily swatting them away with its tail.

He'd had some hope at first. Fenris had landed some nice blows and so had he – unfortunately they soon had to realise that the dragon wasn't very impressed with their efforts. What had looked like an actual fight for a bit had then turned into more running than fighting and even the attacks they still dared to launch between dodging and recovering whenever Anders could manage to trap the dragon had decreased dramatically in efficiency the more their exhaustion got to them.

They were losing, and fast. And Anders really didn't feel like becoming dragon lunch, especially not after this mess of a fight that had both of them going to their limits. They were completely out of potions too, shards of empty bottles dropped in the haste of the battle scattered in the sand. How Fenris hadn't sliced open his feet on them yet was a mystery, one of these elven secrets no one could explain with common human logic. Right now Anders was grateful it worked to their advantage though, whether he understood it or not. He wasn't stupid: If Fenris went down he'd be next – and he would be easy prey in his current state.

They needed a plan. Now.

_Think, Anders, think. 'Strategic genius', remember? **Think.** _

Fenris moaned, either in pain, exhaustion or despair, he really didn't care to identify it right now, and Anders sent him another bout of healing magic just in case while he frantically searched their surroundings for anything that might be of help.

But there was nothing here, nothing but a vastness of sand and rock and a hungry, angry dragon and two bloody idiots who shouldn't have left the city without the one person who could make sure they kept their temper in check when failing to do so would get them in trouble and possibly killed somewhere in a rocky canyon in the middle of nowhere.

_Rock._

He retracted his magic, wincing at the suppressed whining noise that escaped Fenris. All or nothing now, he would need what little energy he had left.

"Fenris, listen. I need you up there."

The warrior pulled a face but turned in the direction Anders pointed in: the side of the canyon, next to the pile of rubble that cut off their way back.

"Use the wreckage to climb up. You can do that, right?"

Fenris looked pained, for more than one reason.

"Am I to be the decoy, putting myself on display while you escape?"

Anders threw up his hands in despair.

"No, you idiot. Look, I need- "

A long, furious squeal from behind interrupted him, announcing the dragon freeing itself.

"-need you up there to- Maker, just trust me on this, just this once, please, get up there and don't move around too much so I won't miss."

Green eyes narrowed at him and the elf had already opened his mouth to retort as the dragon broke free and dropped to its feet with a massive thud that shook the ground.

"Now. Get up there if you want at least a chance of getting out of here alive!"

Apparently his life coming into play made Fenris reconsider his refusal. His mouth closed, eyes darting back and forth between Anders and their approaching foe before he rolled his shoulders once and took off towards the pile of boulders, the dragon stomping faithfully after its main aggressor.

The mage breathed a sigh of relief. Alright, now they would have to hope the reports on dragon behaviour he had been studying at the circle (one of the more popular books at the library for good reason) weren't completely off.

So far things were looking good: Fenris had soon made it to the top of the pile and only needed to climb a short section of cliff itself above it before he reached the edge. The dragon had attempted to follow him but it was far too large and heavy to use the fallen chunks of rock for support, they kept sliding away and breaking apart beneath its feet and eventually it gave up with a frustrated snort and stomp.

While he would firmly deny it later Anders was currently praying to all deities he knew of. Just in case any of them existed, were listening and feeling generous. Genius plan or not, they needed all help they could get right now. Admittedly his idea was a bit of a gamble but it was the only plan they had.

Fed up with the useless, rocky ladder the black creature was now prowling around the plain, looking visibly upset at having lost its target. Luckily the very same decided to draw attention to himself again by whistling from the top of the cliff before it got any ideas about turning helpless mages into comfort food.

It was working, Anders thought giddily, it really was. The dragon roared at the tiny figure up on the cliff and fully unfolded its wings, stretching them and then lifting its massive body off the ground with first slow, then increasingly faster strokes of wing. Neck arched upwards it climbed higher and higher into the air, leaving the canyon far below. It swerved over the cliffside opposite Fenris in a wide arc, disappearing from Anders' view for a moment as it gathered speed, then headed straight at the elf, back over the canyon at a downward angle to pick up its prey. Even as its mighty jaws opened, Fenris stood perfectly still as he had been ordered to.

_Now._

The dragon was flying in a perfectly straight line at the elf, too distracted by its target to pay any attention to the mage and to notice, let alone dodge, the ice spell he had been preparing. It wasn't particularly strong and only covered a small area, he didn't have much energy left to draw from. It wouldn't pierce through its scales either - and wouldn't have to. The mage had aimed right for the wing joint at the dragon's shoulder, the one least moving around and easiest to hit, the one providing stability in flight. It was now encased in a sheen of ice.

That, the beast couldn't ignore. It growled in distress as its wing grew stiff, head snapping back to identify the problem, moving the wing frantically up and down to shake off the obstruction, thereby throwing itself off balance and off course. Anders bit his lip excitedly. It was losing height.

After a few awkward flapping moves to dislodge the last bits of ice the dragon directed its attention to what was in front of it again it – and saw nothing but solid rock before crashing into the cliffside headfirst.

The sound of a huge dragon skull hitting the canyon wall was grotesque, a crushing chord of bone and rock. They both cracked in the process, the dragon tumbling down the wall with a last whining roar along with another avalanche of large chunks of rock before hitting the ground hard, the impact almost throwing Anders off his feet. He looked on in awe as it all came crashing down, courtesy of one tiny ice spell that he had, up until today, only considered good for preserving food in summer.

So that hadn't gone _exactly_ according to plan. He had hoped for the beast to crash into the ground up on the cliff, preferably for it to get stuck in the meager scattering of trees for a while. This kind of spectacle had been completely unexpected but it had certainly been fascinating and far more efficient than what he had hoped for.

It was only when he watched the limp body of the dragon become half-buried beneath boulders and rubble that he remembered there had been a second component to his trick. One that was currently nowhere to be seen.

" _Fenris_!"

 

*

 

He was drenched in sweat, his knees, arms, palms and – actually, pretty much _everything_ hurt by now. There were a dozen brand-new tears in his coat and he was so exhausted he thought he might to pass out any moment now if he dared take a break and sit down. For what felt like an hour he had been digging through the pile of rock that was now firmly enclosing the dragon's head with his bare hands, occasionally using his staff for leverage, clearing away whatever he could physically manage in search for the elf.

In hopes of getting a better overview he had attempted to climb to the top of the rubble. Sadly, climbing a loose pile of rock wasn't nearly as easy as Fenris had made it look earlier. Another weird, yet convenient elven thing then. Sometimes Anders felt a little envy at their natural advantages. He had eventually given up his futile attempts of trying to find a hold on the shaky stones and used the dragon's motionless limbs and spikes as a ladder instead.

As it was, he was sitting on its shoulder, catching his breath for a moment while still casting around for the elf. The portion of the wall he had been standing on when the dragon collided with it had definitely come down. That combined with the fact that he still hadn't turned up down here to 'discuss' what just went down was all the proof Anders needed that he hadn't been able to get away in time.

He probably should have explained the plan in more detail to give the elf an idea of what to expect but there hadn't been time, it was pointless to fret over that now.

Finally, something white between the grey-brown masses caught his eye. The mage scrambled down the dragon's neck, balancing on what seemed to be the most stable piece of rock available while he carefully dug the other man out. The stone began to wobble beneath them and Anders dragged the unconscious elf backwards onto the dragon and against his chest, scraping together the very last bit of magic in him to heal what he could, focusing on any potential head injuries.

 

*

 

It took Fenris a while to regain consciousness, at last freed from the stony confines but feeling like he had been run over by a cart. Or ten. He instinctively tried to sit up only to groan and lean back against the soft cushion behind him.

"Easy. I can't heal everything right now, the less you move until I've recovered the better."

_Mage_.

"It was the part about healing that gave it away, wasn't it."

Had he said that out loud? Everything was so fuzzy, flashing images and sounds chasing each other around in his mind, coherent thought escaping him time and time again as he tried to hold onto the memories long enough to make sense of things.

"Where'm I?" he heard himself slur.

The mage huffed softly. His voice was low when he spoke again, as if he knew exactly that Fenris' head felt like it would crack open if stressed with a louder volume.

"To be honest I have not the slightest idea where we are. You better get back on your feet soon and take me home, I didn't bring my bedroll and I get very cranky when I have to sleep on the ground outdoors."

"...'lways cranky," Fenris muttered and tried to pry his eyes open one more time. His vision was still blurry but he could tell there was daylight, that was probably good.

Slowly but surely reality came back to him. And with it the awareness of the position he was in, of those arms wrapped around his middle.

"....release me, mage."

It came out as a very unimpressive jumble of consonants. No wonder the other didn't comply.

"I'm afraid I can't. If I let go you'll likely fall down a couple of feet and as an experienced healer I can attest that's not the best treatment for your current condition."

Fall down? Now he had to know where he was, headache be damned.

When he did manage to force his swimming surroundings back into a relatively sharp image, looking around as much as his dizzy head allowed, he immediately sobered up.

There was a pile of rubble in front of them, covering what appeared to be the front end of the thing they were sitting on; a long, black, scaly- His eyes widened, heartbeat quickened and voice raised in alarm.

"That is... a _dragon_!"

Anders sighed behind him, sounding slightly amused.

"So I keep telling you."

 

*

 

"You don't remember."

"No."

"Fenris, that's not funny."

"It was no joke."

Besides, he remembered most things, now that he was fully awake. Which was a small wonder considering the fall he had taken and the masses of rock that had come down on him thanks to the mage's _ingenious_ plan – which would require some analysing, _later_ , when he was feeling better and had regained the strength in his arms – just not this one tiny detail.

In visible discomfort, the elf rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead. The gauntlets were gone, put somewhere on the dragon's neck behind Anders together with his metal chestplate so they wouldn't accidentally rub against and worsen his injuries. The mage was slowly recovering, occasionally reaching out to heal another gash or bruise, putting him back together piece by piece. It took time, however, and for the most part he simply rested against the cloud of feathers behind him, ignoring the pain.

All he wanted to do right now was sleep but the mage kept him awake with casual comments and questions. It was starting to feel like there was a method to it.

"You're telling me we nearly got ourselves killed and you don't remember why."

"I do remember _why_. We were supposed to clear the area so my client could safely retrieve their wares from the cart."

"But you don't remember who they are."

"No."

Anders sighed and his breath grazed Fenris' ear. If he hadn't been so tired and weary he would have complained but as it was he didn't bother, didn't even really mind the arms around his waist holding him in place anymore. If he ignored who the mage was for a moment it could almost be considered comfortable. The dizziness helped with that.

"How does that even work? Do you remember a bodiless voice telling you these things? You do know you're not supposed to listen to those."

As if the mage was one to talk, with that spirit making itself at home in his head as Fenris had in Danarius' mansion – they even shared a habit of careless redecorating it seemed. But he didn't have the energy to fight.

"I remember remembering."

He sneezed as a feather tickled his nose, too lazy to move his head instead.

" _Ew_! You blighted-...wait, you what?"

"I recall thinking about the task. Before we exited the tunnel," he explained to the offending feather.

"Ah."

There was a moment of silence and the elf felt himself drifting off into half-sleep again. Of course the mage had to intervene.

"So, no pay then."

Anders sounded regretful.

Fenris contemplated the thought for a moment, observing the feathers next to his face dance along with his breath. Feathers on a mage's coat. Belonging to one mage in particular whom he couldn't get along with on a good day – which this clearly wasn't. Who was currently hugging him while being used as a pillow. Because they were sitting on a dead dragon's neck. A dragon they had apparently fought, not to mention very nearly been eaten by, completely in vain. An abomination and a lyrium elf who despised each other cuddling out in the middle of nowhere under a clear, blue sky. The weather truly was lovely, Merrill would be frolicking all over Sundermount right now.

The first chuckle he attempted to disguise as a cough. The next he tried to smother in the feathers. When that didn't work he grit his teeth in a last desperate attempt to keep his composure but soon his entire frame was shaking with repressed laughter at the absurdity of the situation. It hurt, hurt pretty badly in all those places still not healed and even the rest of him that was not injured but just sore, but he couldn't stop, not even when Anders looked down at him in confusion.

"Fenris? What's the matter?"

Asking him to speak now was truly cruel, just as expected of a mage. Fenris decided to rise to the challenge and answer, wincing a little when his voice cracked halfway through the sentence.

"We're on a _dragon_."

Apparently that wasn't nearly as funny to Anders as it was to him. The mage's dirt-smeared face was a picture of mildly amused perplexity hovering above his as he attempted to make out the source of Fenris' convulsions.

"Well, yes. But I'm rather certain it won't get up again and take us for a ride."

That did it. That was just the mental image needed to tip him over the edge. Fenris dissolved into a disgraceful cackle, face buried once more in feathers.

"Imagine," he managed to wheeze out after a moment, "what Hawke would say if we rode a dragon back into the city."

Now Anders was grinning too.

"Oh, he'd never forgive us for not letting him have a part in that."

"Never," Fenris breathed, still hiccupping with laughter, eyes wet.

The mage was soothingly patting his trembling stomach with a chuckle of his own.

"Fenris, for future reference, I'm chalking this... emotional outburst up to your head trauma and exhaustion and we'll never speak of it again. Just so you don't get any ideas about removing the only witness."

 

*

 

The Hanged Man was buzzing with people even though it was still early in the evening as Hawke squeezed his way through the crowd, headed towards a familiar white shock of hair at the bar.

"Fenris! Thought I'd find you here. Readying yourself for Wicked Grace Night, I see."

The elf acknowledged him with a nod, ale still at his lips, as the Champion produced a small pouch from inside his armour.

"I ran into Athenril earlier and she asked me to give you this, something about 'impressive work' and she was surprised you didn't come to pick up your reward yet?"

"Oh! Just in time!"

Hawke blinked as the bag of coin was snatched from his hand, not by the elf but by Anders who had appeared out of nowhere right by his side.

"I just received a shipment of embrium I need to pay off, better get that out of the way as soon as possible."

Mysteriously enough, Fenris didn't seem to mind when the mage spread the contents of the pouch across the counter, counting coins and parting them into two equal portions. Instead he took another sip of his drink.

Hawke squinted at the pair.

"Anyone care to tell me what this is about?"

The elf finally parted from his glass for a moment and cleared his throat before answering.

"We... took care of a small problem for her."

Anders perked his head up from counting, two silvers still in hand.

"Excuse me? It was a big problem. _Huge_ , even."

"It was a small one."

The blond rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"It was pretty huge for a small problem."

Fingers circling around his glass again, Fenris smirked.

"You mean it was small for a big problem."

"So you'll admit it was a big problem then?" Anders shot back, an eyebrow raised but having obvious difficulty to keep a straight face.

Whatever this strange discussion was about, by now Hawke had lost interest in finding out. At least it wasn't about the appropriate treatment of mages for once. He shook his head.

"Guys, I think I'll, you know, go join the non-glowing people upstairs who don't talk in riddles. Don't follow me until you've settled this... size debate. And no, I don't want to know."

Because, really, how interesting could it possibly be?


End file.
